


Out Amongst The Walking Wounded

by fridaysblues (taemin)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Wolf Drama MV, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-03-20 01:03:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3630861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taemin/pseuds/fridaysblues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jongin's still a little rattled by the intrusion into their group. Baekhyun's happy to distract him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out Amongst The Walking Wounded

The game's been over for fifteen minutes or so and the others are peeling away in twos and threes. Jongin's not ready to leave yet. His team had suffered a crushing defeat in the final half, mostly due to his carelessness, and he's still pissed off about it. Sehun shouts to Jongin, something about _come get ramyun! the losers are supposed to treat the winners!_ before Baekhyun's stealing the ball from underneath Jongin's heel. He takes off down the field in a flat sprint and a reluctant Jongin has no choice but to follow along, loping, his joints aching from the chilly snap in the November air.

Baekhyun lets Jongin catch him at the goal post, even stands back to let Jongin drive the ball deep into the corner of the net and drop to his knees, roaring. He waits until Jongin's fists unclench themselves, lowers himself onto the damp grass next to Jongin and puts a hand on the base of his neck to steady him.

"You feel better now?"

Jongin wipes the spittle from his cracked lips with the back of his hand and grunts noncommittally. Baekhyun offers him an approximation of a smile.

"Hey. It was just a pick-up game. No big deal."

"I know." Jongin doesn't know how to tell Baekhyun that missing the goal wasn't the point. He'd missed it because of what he'd seen: a pair of pale legs, swathed in navy socks up to the knee. A skirt. A rosy face hidden underneath a hat. She'd smiled, waved in Lu Han's direction, and suddenly Lu Han's _everything_ became brighter, like he couldn't lose if she was around. His lucky charm.

"Hey. I know. Stop thinking about it," Baekhyun murmurs, his voice very close. So he does know. Baekhyun's good like that. Jongin doesn't often have to tell him things outright. Baekhyun just seems to be in tune with the way Jongin feels, sometimes even before Jongin's sorted things out in his head for himself.

Jongin turns into Baekhyun's face, so close he's almost cross-eyed as he tries to make out the lines of Baekhyun's features, pull them into focus. His nose is red from the cold, cheeks still flushed with exertion. His fingers, too—long, thin, curled around Jongin's leg like a creeping vine, thumb mapping the topography of the ankle, the taut calf muscle, the shin. Jongin is warm but he shivers anyway.

"Seriously. Forget about it," Baekhyun says, and he's not laughing anymore. Jongin shrugs uncomfortably.

"It's not—I just. That kid. I don't know." He closes his eyes and sees the way her expression softened when she looked at Lu Han, like he wasn't a monster, like he hadn't fucked up Kyungsoo's wrist. Like he hadn't changed everything the minute he transferred in. Lu Han doesn't even need to touch anything to fuck it up. Things are different now all over the place, noticeably so. The gang doesn't even come around anymore. They're too scared of what they've seen, of what they've woken in Lu Han, who, for his part, refuses to discuss what had happened that night with anyone.

Jongin's not angry about that anymore, though. He's not even afraid. Lu Han's not going to hurt them—anymore, anyway, and Kyungsoo's fractured wrist was an accident (or at least Kyungsoo keeps insisting it was: "I came up too fast on him, Jongin. It's okay."). Jongin doesn't know what he's feeling, except the way his neck gets hot when he sees Lu Han smile. Jealousy, maybe, except he's never felt jealousy coupled with this fuzzy sort of weakness before, like he just wants to lie down and sleep forever. It's not just when she's around, either. He feels that way every time he looks at Lu Han.

He doesn't get a chance to open his eyes again before Baekhyun's pressing a kiss against the crook of his knee, lips lingering close to draw a trail of warm, soft kisses up Jongin's inseam. Jongin's breath stutters through his parted lips, a series of visible clouds that disappear into the crown of Baekhyun's head.

It's always been Baekhyun coaxing him through these things: the right way to bend a football, the first time he ever skipped class, his first fist fight. Now, this. He lets Baekhyun push him back against the grass without protest. He doesn't open his eyes, just threads his fingers through Baekhyun's hair and hums quietly to himself under his breath.

The grass is cold under his ass. Damp, too, from the early evening dew, but he's not really worried about it when there are more immediate things holding his attention. Baekhyun's fingers grip at the notch of his waist, his nose buried in Jongin's navel. Jongin gasps out loud at the first swallow and barely holds himself back from coming on the spot, unaccustomed to the tight heat of anyone's throat. Baekhyun's fingers lace through Jongin's for comfort, although with the way he's moaning quietly around Jongin's cock, Jongin doesn't really know who needs the reassurance more.

He opens his eyes and looks down past the end of his nose to watch Baekhyun's lips glistening as they draw back and pucker together, eyes narrowed in this blissed out sort of concentration that's so unlike Baekhyun and so endearingly sweet that Jongin loosens his grip on Baekhyun's hair to thumb at his jaw.

Baekhyun's hands slide up under Jongin's shirt in response and Jongin whole body flinches noticeably when Baekhyun skates over the week-old bruise that still decorates his left side. He tries not to whimper but it's hard—it still fucking hurts even though it's past purpling, now fading into an ugly green. Baekhyun retreats, licks a slow kiss around the tip of Jongin's dick like he's got apologies under his tongue. Jongin bucks his hips in response and unwinds slowly, like he's been waiting all week to decompress under the give of Baekhyun's mouth.

When it's over and Jongin's cock is soft against his thigh once more, Baekhyun looks up at Jongin and grins with stretched lips. Jongin laughs and pushes his hand into Baekhyun's face, watches as Baekhyun leans over Jongin's torso to spit his mouthful into the grass. He grunts tiredly as he flops back down by Jongin's side, head nestled into Jongin's neck. Their hands find each other.

"You still thinking about Lu Han?" he asks.

Jongin shakes his head, breathing still uneven and shallow. "No." And then, belatedly: "Um. Thanks."

"Yeah. Good." Baekhyun rolls up onto his knees. "Because that's no excuse for shitting the bed on goal."

"What did you say?" Jongin asks, struggling to his feet, knees tottering and unsteady like all of the blood's been drained from his body. "You're trying to start shit after you missed that corner kick?"

Baekhyun takes off, laughing. This time, Jongin keeps up easily.


End file.
